Tainted Love
by Twilight Shards
Summary: AU. In a post-apocalpytic world, Raven is a girl haunted by her past and an uncertain future. The appearance of a charming stranger in her life will be sure to complicate things, especially when there is more to him that meets the eye. MalchiorRaven
1. Prologue: Blood Stained Snow

**I seriously debated on when to post this fic, but I couldn't wait to write a Malchior/Raven one. I still plan to update my other one, so don't worry . Well, happy readying!**

**And of course, I don't own the Teen Titans.**

* * *

The Ties that Bind Us 

Prologue: Blood-Stained Snow

The feeble rays of the morning sun had shone through the holes in the curtains that draped over each side of the window of the small room. They stretched across the worn floorboards and then seeped its way over to a small form huddled in a tangle of thin blankets.

A pair of round, dark amethyst eyes opened slowly from a pale face. Trickles of violet hair brushed past her small shoulders as she sat up from her bed. Rubbing her eyes, she yawned a bit as the sun continued to dawn over the little cottage.

However, although she has lived here for eight years, it never felt like a home to her.

She swung her little feet over the bedside and planted them on the floor. Her hands tugged the blankets over the aged mattress and she smoothed out the wrinkles before changing into an old dress and a shawl and leaving the room.

When she had reached the living room that had also served as a small kitchen, she found her mother sitting at the small table. A bowl of hot porridge was placed before an empty chair, and the child sat before it and silently ate. At mealtimes, conversations were nonexistent for her mother did not seem to make an effort to talk to her.

The girl was used to it though; it was not like she was ever in the mood to talk to her mother anyway.

The woman's eyes stared at the child as she ate from the curls of dark hair that went past her shoulders. The girl had noticed, but she ignored it. Whether it be her own mother or the people who lived in the nearby village, she was used to being gawked at.

Her eyes had lost the spark of youth that she had possessed in her earlier years. They seemed to settle on the middle of her forehead, and the child knew what she was looking at.

On rare occasions such as this morning, her mother would take note of the crimson diamond-shaped stone that was embedded on her forehead. Her barren eyes would then seem to glisten, and she would get that same look of despair that she would always have when she looked at her daughter. Being a child, the girl could not comprehend why her mother looked so agonized whenever she saw that gem. It was like she was on the verge of tears, but she had none left to shed. What could be so upsetting about the jewel that it would make her mother so miserable?

Since her mother never talked about it, and she herself did not have a problem with the fact that she was born with a jewel on her forehead, she left the table after she was finished eating to venture out into the forests outside of the cottage. As soon as she shut the door, her mother buried her face into her hands and began sobbing.

The brisk winter air embraced her upon leaving the warmth of the cottage. The forest floor was blanketed in a thick sheet of shimmering snow, and the frost-laden branches blended into the background of the white-gray sky.

She took a deep breath, and then began walking. The wind whistled through the violet strands of her hair, and her shoes crunched softly upon the snow with each step that she took. It was without a doubt cold, but she did not care. She was walking away to her special place, a place that her mother did not know about. There, she would sit by herself and was not bothered. She was not stared at or talked about: she was simply alone. No strained whispers, no crying mother, just her and the silence of the sleeping forest, and that was all she wanted.

All of a sudden, a feeling of dread overpowered her. The girl instantly halted in her steps, the strange sensation weighing her down. She had noticed that it had gotten considerably colder, frigid even. An unusual scent permeated the air, something that she was not familiar with.

She somehow felt that the origin of all this was coming from the clearing that she would spend her time alone at.

Driven by curiosity, she walked further into the forest. The feeling of dread only strengthened as she drew closer to the clearing, and the strange scent was almost dizzying. Still, she walked on, her heart drumming in her chest wildly.

With each step, the dread quickly altered into something worse. She could not see it just yet, but it felt as if someone was in pain. Someone was _suffering_, she was certain of it. She could _feel_ it.

Finally, she stepped into the clearing. Trees surrounded a small pond whose frozen surface had shared the same semblance with that of a mirror. The wind whispered through the naked trees, and occasionally a patch of snow would slip off a branch and fall onto the waiting ground below.

Everything was so white. Everything matched; everything was unblemished and flawless like a winter wonderland should be.

That was until her eyes fell upon a figure lying in a pool of blood on the other side of the pond.

She ran around the pond and to the fallen body. Upon closer inspection, she saw that the lean figure was that of a boy. Long, silver-white hair had fallen to the small of his back and, like the snow around him, the strands were stained with blood.

Drops of scarlet tainted the pure white of the snow on the ground, and she recognized it as the scent from earlier. His clothes were tattered, and they too were stained with blood. She saw his hands were clutching his stomach, and his breathing was short and uneven.

Without wasting time, she carefully turned the boy over onto his back. The wound was deep, and he was losing more blood with each passing second. Her fingers fumbled as they tore at the shawl around her shoulders. She wrapped the cloth around him and tied it as securely as she could. The boy mumbled something, but she could tell that he was struggling to keep conscious.

What was she going to do? She couldn't go back to the cottage and get her mother to help. It was too far, and the blood was quickly seeping through the shawl without any signs of stopping.

In her uncertainty, she lightly pressed her hands against the shawl that had covered the wound, hoping that it would help slow the bleeding. His eyes were flickering open, and she caught a glimpse of the crystal blue pools that settled underneath the pair of long lashes. His breathing was getting shorter now, but he didn't need to speak to tell her that he was in pain. He was staring straight at her, and little by little the look in his eyes was becoming more distant.

Even if she didn't know him, she didn't want to see him like this. She didn't want to see _anyone_ like this. She wanted to help him, she didn't want to see him suffer anymore...

A tingling sensation took over her fingers, and she saw that her hands were engulfed in blue light. A surprised gasp escaped her lips and she stared at her hands as if she were seeing them for the first time.

However, something wondrous was happening before her eyes.

The flow of blood that leaked through the shawl was slowing down. It was like the wound was gradually healing itself as her hands were placed over it. The boy's breathing became more even, and she was relieved when his eyes had opened again.

A jolt of pain struck her, replacing the relief that she had felt. A cry escaped her lips from the sensation; it had felt like the cold steel of a knife had been buried into her. Her hands left the boy's wound and clutched her stomach, and when she looked down she saw that her own blood was beginning to drip down her fingers.

She had never felt such an excruciating pain. She could barely hear herself crying out, and the snow-covered forest was becoming a white haze to her now. She could make out the boy before her, and he realized that his blue eyes were wide open in fright. His lips were moving, but she couldn't hear what he was saying. Soon, unconsciousness took over her and the white haze and the blue-eyed boy had disappeared.

* * *

The frigid touch of the night air had stirred her from sleep. Her eyes slowly opened, and the crackle of a warm fire greeted her. She was back in the clearing, surrounded by the bare, swaying trees. 

She remembered what had happened, and she sat up from the ground. Her hands involuntarily went to her stomach, and she found that her shawl was wrapped around her.

"Are you okay?"

She turned around to see him standing there with a pile of twigs and branches in his hands. He was very thin and he was a bit taller than her. He looked like he was around her age, but there was something about him aside from the shock of white hair and the startling blue eyes that made him seem more than a simple child.

"Yes," she replied feebly, her eyes traveling to where he was bleeding before.

He laughed a bit, the warmth of his voice breaking the frosty silence. "Don't worry," he reassured her as he fed the fire the wood that he salvaged. "I feel a lot better now, thanks to you."

She could feel her cheeks getting warm, and she averted his eyes from him. "I didn't do anything..."

"Yes you did," he said. "You stopped the bleeding."

Even if that were true, she didn't know _how_ she did it. One minute, she was helpless to save this strange boy, and the next her hands were glowing with blue light that didn't burn her at all, and now he was claiming that she had saved him.

"I'm sorry about your shawl," he said, and her eyes then fell to the cloth that was wrapped around her. She untied the knot and it unraveled. The light from the fire made the scarlet stains more vivid on the dark cloth.

"When I get some money, I'll buy you a new one."

Taken by surprise, her eyes widened at the white-haired boy. No one had ever offered her to buy anything for her, especially not other children. Didn't this boy understand? He wasn't supposed to say that to her, he wasn't even supposed to be talking to her!

She was different, strange, and unusual. She wasn't like other children, and because of that they stayed away from her. She wasn't a normal little girl, and that justified her mother's decision to hide her away in a rickety old cottage. It justified her not having any friends, not having a loving mother, and most importantly, it justified the fact that she could never be happy.

"Hey, what's wrong? Why are you crying?"

Before she even realized it, warm tears were trickling from the corners of her eyes and down her cheeks. Frustrated with the boy and the wretched life she was forced to live, she got up from the snow and bolted towards the darkness of the forest. The boy was calling to her, but she ignored him. All she wanted to do was be alone today, and he had ruined it for her.

The shadows welcomed her and the darkness was comforting as she ran. She didn't know where her feet were taking her, she just wanted to get away from it all. Away from the staring eyes, away from her mother, and away from that boy...

Something gripped her wrist and pulled her back, preventing her from moving.

"Let me go!" she screamed, trying to break free of whatever was holding her. "I want to be alone!"

Her eyes flashed white and her hands blazed black once more. Dark flames erupted from her hand, and she heard a cry of pain and something falling soundly onto the snow. Her hand was free again, but she didn't continue running. She was too shocked to do so.

Slumping against the tree was the blue-eyed boy. He was rubbing the back of his hair and wincing in pain as he stood up from the snow.

"Why did you run away?" he asked her. She was shocked that he wasn't running away from _her_.

"...aren't you afraid of me?" she questioned him, the tears still running down her pale cheeks.

He gave her a puzzled look and shook his head. "Why would I be afraid of you?"

She turned her back to him, feeling uneasy about the way he was behaving. Normally, any other child would be sprinting away from her. They would be screaming, telling her to stay away from them. She was abnormal. She was frightening.

...and yet this boy wasn't running away from her, even after she had unintentionally attacked him.

"...because...I'm not normal."

"So? I'm not either."

_That_ was certainly unexpected. Intrigued, she had stopped crying and turned around. There was small smile on his tired face, and before she could even ask, he had murmured something under his breath. In an instant, his hand was engulfed in bolts of white energy. He held out his palm, and a sphere of dazzling light formed above it. Her eyes were fixated on it, and as soon as he had conjured it, it had disappeared.

She stared at him, and she found that there was still a kind smile on his face.

"I'm Rorek. What's your name?"

Her heart skipped a beat. No one has ever asked her that before. No one even wanted to know. But the gentle smile on his face soothed any fears that she had.

"...Raven."

* * *

It had been a week since Rorek had made camp in the clearing. She had been visiting him everyday, bringing food and bandages with her. While she was tending to his injuries, she would talk to him all day, and it would not be until night that she would go home. 

And every time that she had to leave, for some reason, he would look disappointed. Sad, even.

Raven brushed her shoulder-length hair and left her room. She still had to pack a meal for Rorek and her. She was about to step into the living room, but she suddenly heard her mother's voice.

"I don't know what to do. She must hate me, I can't..."

She stopped midway in her sentence, a choking sob erupting from her throat.

"No child can ever hate their parent," an unfamiliar voice comforted her mother. It sounded feminine and enigmatic, almost unearthly.

"But she never says anything to me," her mother replied shakily. "She never talks or laugh, she never smiles...and it's all my fault..."

The sobs became heavier, and Raven peeked around the corner to see what was happening. Her mother was crying into her hands, and a woman in robes of dark blue was placing a comforting hand onto her shoulder.

"It haunts me even when I'm awake. Every time I look at her, I remember _him_. I remember everything that I had done, how much of a damned fool I was...!"

"What has been done cannot be changed," the woman solemnly stated. "But your child can still be saved. She does not have to become what you fear most."

The wretched floorboards beneath her creaked slightly from her shifting weight. The woman and her mother looked in her direction and found her eavesdropping on them. However, the girl kept a blank expression and headed towards the kitchen. She got out a basket and placed a couple of apples and a few stems of grapes into it. She also put in a few loaves of bread into the basket. When she couldn't find the jar of strawberry jam that she was certain that they had, she deducted that it was in the cupboard. Standing on the tips of her toes, she managed to open the cupboard door, but the jam was on the higher shelf.

A hand reached for the jar and brought it down for her. Raven's eyes darted over to the robed woman, who was smiling down at her.

"My, what an adorable little girl," she gently spoke. "What is your name?"

She just stared at the woman in silence, but her mother answered for her.

"Her name is Raven."

"Raven," the woman repeated, the smile still fixed on her face. "Such a fitting name for a lovely child."

Raven didn't understand why the woman was being so kind to her and she didn't know why she was here in the first place, but she decided to think about it later. Rorek was probably waiting for her, and she didn't want to be late.

Without saying a word, she took the jam from the woman's hand and put in the basket. She headed towards the door and opened it.

"Are you going to stay out all day again?" her mother asked.

"Yes," was the simple reply, and she closed the door behind her.

* * *

"Raven?" 

She turned her head towards the blue-eyed boy, who was sitting beside her. "Yeah?"

"What's wrong? You've been really quiet."

Another day had passed, and night had fallen. The stars shone in unison from the velvet blue sky, and the moon illuminated the snow that draped the entire forest.

"It's nothing," she quickly replied, staring at their reflections on the frozen pond's surface.

"It doesn't seem that way," he replied. "What's wrong?"

It was obvious that continuing to lie to him wasn't going to make things better. "It's just that...a woman came to my house today, and my mother and her were talking about me."

Raven sighed heavily. "My mother said that every time she would look at me, I reminded her of someone. She said that I also reminded her of something that she did a long time ago, something that she regrets."

She hugged her knees tightly, and stared at they sky. "I guess it makes sense, though. When she sees me, she looks hurt...and it's like I'm the one who hurt her."

Her fingers touched the red gem on her forehead, and even though Rorek was next to her, she was feeling miserable.

"Maybe if I looked like a normal child, she would be happy."

"...I used to think that, too."

She looked at him, but his eyes never met hers. Instead, he stared at his reflection that was on the pond's surface. There was a look of contempt in his features, and his reflection had mirrored it as well.

"I didn't always look like this," he started, pulling at a strand of white hair. "I used to look normal, but even then, I didn't feel _normal_."

He looked back at her, smiling sadly. "A lot of people stayed away from me before I looked like this. I guess even if I did look normal, it wouldn't really matter..."

Rorek trailed off, leaving Raven more perplexed. Although she had found comfort in his words, there seemed to be something that he wasn't telling her. In fact, he never explained to her how he got those terrible wounds a week ago. She didn't ask him, fearing that she would bring up something that he didn't want to talk about.

Although he was a child like her, there was much more to him than he was letting on.

"Raven?"

His voice snapped her out of her thoughts. "Yes?"

He was unusually quiet, and he had once again failed to meet her eyes. "If you knew something about me, if you knew that I did something really terrible...would you still be my friend?"

She stared at him in silence, and now he was looking directly at her. His eyes looked both hopeful and anxious as he waited for her answer.

Even though there was still a lot about Rorek that she didn't know about, she couldn't say no. He was the first person who ever talked to her, the first person who didn't run away or treat her like she was inhuman.

Rorek made her feel accepted and understood. He made her feel happier than she had ever been in her life.

"Of course I would."

The joy was apparent in his eyes, but he still held back. "No matter how terrible?"

She smiled warmly, and answered, "You're the first one who wasn't afraid of me. You'll always be my friend."

A boyish grin spread across his face, and she knew that he had believed her. She then turned to the sky and was mesmerized by the shimmering sea of stars above.

"You really like stars, don't you?"

She nodded. "Yes. I always look at them. I think they're very pretty."

"...I'll get one for you."

Her eyes tore away from the sky and settled upon him.

"I'll get the brightest one and put it on a chain for you so you can wear it. And whenever you look at it, you can think of me."

He was smiling at her, and she knew that she was blushing. "Why?"

The smile disappeared from his face, and he looked away from her. "Because...I really like you, Raven."

His pale cheeks were now red, his long bangs covering his eyes. He fell unusually silent once more, waiting for her to respond. A part of him was afraid that she would reject him, and once again he would be alone. The sound of his heart pounding thundered in his ears as he waited for an answer.

A small hand placed itself on his, and he looked up to meet her amethyst eyes.

"...I like you, too."

She was blushing, but the smile on her face filled him with a happiness that he hadn't felt in a long time. They both were silent then, and they gazed at the stars together.

* * *

Raven shut the door behind her with the basket dangling from her arm. She turned around and was about to leave for the clearing. 

However, a small crowd of hooded figures stood in her way.

"Child, you must come with us."

One of them extended a hand out to her, but she refused to take it. "Who are you?" she asked, taking a step back.

None of them answered. Instead, the leader drew closer to her with his outstretched hand.

"Never mind that. You must come with us," he repeated, his tone more assertive.

The door opened, and her mother had stepped out. She saw the frightened look on her daughter's face, and then she had seen the hooded figures that were standing outside of her home.

"Oh, God..." Raven heard her mother murmur. Before she knew it, the woman stood in front of her, keeping her out of the strangers' view.

"Move aside woman," the leader hissed.

Her mother did no such thing, and instead she took her daughter and shoved her inside the house. Before Raven could even question her, her mother was busy bolting the door.

"What's happening?" Raven asked, her voice trembling.

After she was finished, she took her daughter by the hand and into the back of the house. Kneeling to her height, she placed her hands on her shoulders.

"Raven, you have to run away from here."

"Why?"

She was silent, the tears welling up in her eyes again. She brought the girl close to her in a tight hug, making Raven all the more confused and fearful.

"Take care of yourself."

She pulled away from her daughter with a sorrowful smile on her ruby lips. Raven gawked at her, feeling more frightened than she had ever been. Why was her mother saying this? It was like she was saying good-bye, and that made her feel scared...

An explosion was heard, and splinters of wood flew in all directions. Without warning, a beam of blood red light shot through her mother's chest and she fell soundly on the ground. Blood pooled out of the wound, and her eyes were wide open but unmoving. Her dark curls were strewn around her face which wore an expression of shock.

Raven knelt down to her mother's unmoving body. Her little hands gathered up her mother's tightly, hoping that she would get up.

"...mother?" she feebly said, but she received no answer. The blood just kept pooling onto the floorboards, and her mother didn't move.

Raven sat motionless next to her mother. Shadows loomed over her, and the hooded figures had closed in on the young girl.

"Girl, you will come with us."

She gritted her teeth, the rage boiling in her blood. "You did this...you did this to her!"

Her eyes glowed crimson and her hair flew wildly about her face. The walls of the small cottage shook and tremors went through the ground.

The murderers were now at the mercy of a little girl.

* * *

The cottage laid in ruin when she had arrived. As she walked past the rubble and broken wood, she had found bodies amongst the debris. Tattered robes had revealed wounds that ran deeply through nearly incinerated flesh. She shuddered, but continued her search. 

Sure enough, there was a small girl with violet hair kneeling next to the unmoving form of a woman. She didn't even acknowledge her when she was at her side. She just kept holding onto the woman's hand, looking at the corpse with void eyes.

"...Raven?"

The girl did not respond. The woman lowered herself to her height and tried again.

"Raven, are you hurt?"

Again, no response. She just kept looking at her mother's body as if she expected her to come back to life.

The woman pitied the child immensely, but she knew she wasn't safe here. She had to get her out of here before anyone else tried to kidnap her.

"She loved you very much."

Her words roused a reaction from the child. She was looking at her now, her hand still wrapped around that of her mother's.

"She was ready to die for you," she told her. "Although she may have despised herself, she loved you more than anything."

She wrapped her arms around the smaller girl, and to her surprise, the child had hugged her back. Her robe muffled her sobs, and she allowed the tears to fall on her shoulder.

"It was my fault," she said through her choked sobs. "She was trying to stop them..."

"Hush," she comforted the girl. "It was not your fault, little one."

"But why? Why did they kill her?"

She ran her hand through the tangled strands of her hair. She couldn't tell the girl now; she was much too young to know the truth. "Forgive me child, I cannot tell you. One day I will, but not now."

The girl did not lash out at her in anger or frustration. Instead, her sobs began to die down and the tears had stopped flowing onto her robe.

She stood above her, and with an outstretched hand and a comforting smile, she said, "Come. We must go."

She did not take her hand right away. The girl looked back at her mother's corpse and the ruins of her home.

"She died to keep you safe, Raven. We cannot let her sacrifice be in vain."

The child took another moment to examine what was left of the cottage she had shared with her mother, and then she held onto the older woman's hand. In an instant, the remains of her broken childhood had vanished in a flare of black magic.

* * *

**AUTHOR'S NOTE**

**Yes, although it says prologue, it was pretty long. Sorry 'bout that, but I didn't feel right making this an official chapter. Also, you're all probably confused why Rorek is in this chapter when this is actually a Malchior/Raven story, but don't worry. All will be explained soon enough. I know this story might be a little weird and off from the usual TT fic, but I wanted to do something different. Hope that you guys enjoyed it, please feel free to review and tell me what you think **


	2. Chapter One: A Familiar Stranger

Tainted Love

Chapter One: A Familiar Stranger

It felt like every bone in his body had broken. The wounds were burning so terribly that he thought that his entire body was on fire. He felt the blood seeping through his clothes, and he could feel it dripping down his forehead and into his eyes, making it painful to blink.

"Foolish human," a voice menacingly hissed. "Did you really think that you can get in the way of our plans?"

He gritted his teeth in frustration, and summoned what was left of his strength into a spell. A bolt of white light flew from his hand and to his attackers. However, a shield of red energy had absorbed the spell and left the hooded figures unharmed.

Their laughing infuriated him, and he struggled to get up onto his feet. Even though every part of his body protested in pain, he ignored it.

He forced back a shout of pain when he felt jolts of energy burning into his flesh. They were toying with him, tormenting him with spells that he could have easily fought off if he wasn't hanging onto his life by a single thread.

He bit his tongue, refusing to scream. Still, he was only human, and he couldn't stop himself from collapsing onto the ground.

Even though he had fallen, they still decided to torture him. He could still feel the effects of their spells piercing through him like a thousand daggers, but strangely enough, he was beginning to become numb to them. The hooded figures were dark blurs in his eyes, and the gray sky above him was disappearing...

_"So this is how it's going to end..."_ an unearthly voice mused. _"After spending eight years searching for someone who could very well be dead...how quaint."_

_"Shut up," _he snapped back.

_"I can't help but find it amusing. You just wasted your life trying to find a girl that you're not even certain whether she's alive or not, and now you're about to die."_

_"She _is _alive. You can't prove that she's dead!"_

_"And you can't very well prove that she isn't,"_ the voice replied matter-of-factly. _"But I guess that even in the final moments of life, you still cling onto hope as a means of comfort. How typical of humans..."_

Fate was certainly being cruel to him. Not only is he being tortured, but he was denied a peaceful death as well.

_"You know...it does not have to end like this."_

_"...what do you mean?"_

_"Are you _that_ dense? If you allowed me, I can take over and you wouldn't have to suffer at the hands of these idiots."_

_"You expect me to give you control of my body?!" _he fumed. _"If I were to burn in hell, I rather take you with me then let you walk this earth again!"_

_"Look around you, my friend. There isn't much of this earth left. What can I possibly do to make it worse?"_

_"You would find a way."_

_"Perhaps, but do you think I can do anything as terrible as what your attackers will do if their plans succeed?"_

He was silent, not knowing what to say. He could feel his life slipping away, but he refused to give up. He didn't want _him_ to have control; he would surely wipe out what was left of mankind.

_"You're dying as we speak. You know what these people are planning. There will be more destruction and more bloodshed."_

His words were sinking in, but he stubbornly fought for control. He couldn't believe him. He just couldn't...

_"You know that there will be more victims. And if _she_ is alive, she will be one of them."_

The realization struck him, and he knew that he had hit a sensitive chord.

_"Without a soul to occupy it, your body will be nothing more than an empty vessel left to rot on this very ground. If the girl is still living, it would be quite difficult for your corpse to protect her, now wouldn't it?"_

The pain was beginning to subside; everything was growing darker. He was passing the boundary between life and death, and in a matter of moments, all that will remain of him will be a dead body.

_"I can find her for you. _I_ can protect her."_

_"Lies, all of them. All you care about is yourself! You expect me to believe you after all you've done?"_

_"Time is a factor here, my friend. You are passing on, and you know it. In a matter of seconds, you will be nothing more than a carcass for the birds to pick at."_

The voice was right. He could feel himself leaving this world and to the great beyond that was known as the afterlife. No matter how much he wanted to stay, he couldn't. His soul was leaving his body, and he would no longer be bound by the chains of this physical earth.

And it would only be a matter of time until his killers would find her and take her life as they had done to many others. She would be nothing more than another innocent slaughtered, and he wouldn't be able to save her. She was the one who was the most precious, the one he wanted to protect most...

_"...do you swear that you'll protect her?"_

_"I promise that I will keep her safe at all costs. You have my word."_

He didn't know just how valuable his word really was, but something in him told him to believe him. If he didn't give him control, then there would be no one to save the one who meant most to him.

Even though more people would die, even if humanity would have another reason to fear for their existence...he was going to trust him.

Because her life meant more to him than anything else in the world. She was worth that risk.

_"You better take care of her..."_

_"I will. I swear that I will."_

_"...can you do something else for me?"_

_"Of course."_

_"...please...tell her that I'm sorry."_

Silence answered him. Instead of the amused chuckle or taunting remark that he expected, neither came. Was it possible that this coldhearted soul actually pitied him?

_"Don't worry, my friend," _he solemnly replied. _"I will tell her everything."_

He actually felt the corners of his lips lifting into a small smile as he lay dying on the cold ground. _"Thank you..."_

He had stopped breathing. His already slowly beating heart had ceased. For a brilliant moment, he was free from the terrible pain. He was leaving this earth to unknown boundaries, and he was leaving her in the hands of someone else.

Although he can't die with a clear conscience, he can die with a sense of hope.

_I know that more people will die because of my decision, but it was for you. If someone can protect you, then I have no regrets Raven..._

* * *

He had almost forgotten how warm blood was when it dripped from open gashes, or how pain was so overbearing that it hurt to even move a single inch. Blood was trickling down from his forehead and into his eyes, and for a second the world was painted a brilliant shade of the deepest crimson.

Ah, to be alive again...

"We have wasted too much time on the fool," he heard a deep voice say. "Open the portal."

As if an invisible hand had taken a knife and sliced the air, a tear appeared out of nowhere, revealing a swirling vortex of darkness.

"She has to be there," one of them said. "Our master will certainly be pleased—"

A cry of pain rang through the air as the hooded figure was knocked down with a beam of white light. The others looked back and to their disbelief, their victim was on his feet again, energy emanating from both of his hands.

It had been so long since he had seen the fear in men's eyes; how he mad missed instilling that feeling of dread in other people. This was going to be fun indeed...

* * *

Lit candles suspended in midair provided illumination in the dark temple. The brilliant colors of the stained windows painted the floor with myriad hues of scarlet, sapphire, and emerald. Lines of cloaked figures stood motionlessly at both sides of the temple, their eyes fixated at the center.

Indigo eyes stared from a face hidden in the shadow of the hood she wore over her head. Her petite figure was covered with a long, midnight blue cape, and blood red gems gleamed faintly near her neck and wrists.

An older woman stood in front of her in robes of crimson and crowned with a golden headdress. She had an all-knowing air about her, and her countenance was like that of a sage.

"Child," her rich voice echoed throughout the quiet temple. "This is the day of your coming of age. You are bound by sacred tradition to be present here at the Temple of Azarath."

No one spoke. It was as if everyone had been put under a spell by the clear voice of this woman. All eyes continued to watch in silence as she continued.

"The purpose of this ceremony is to discover your soul-self, the spiritual entity that dwells within every man and woman of the Temple. To be seen as a true child of Azarath from the eyes of the elders before you, you must succeed in awakening the entity that has been dormant within you for sixteen years. Are you prepared?"

The girl nodded, and replied confidently, "Yes."

"Then begin the summoning."

The woman in crimson stepped back and said no more. The girl closed her eyes in concentration, and the spectators waited to see what she would do next.

The girl opened her eyes, and they flared white from underneath her hood. She raised her arms over her head, revealing the black leotard and the string of gems she wore around her small waist. The edges of her cape flew around her like wings, and an unnatural wind flew through the temple, disturbing the flames of the candles.

"Azarath, Metrion, Zinthos!" she cried, and shadows loomed across the ground and gathered around the girl. As if they were alive, they entwined themselves around her until she was covered entirely in darkness. The shadows were manifesting into a shape. A head of a creature formed; it had a beak and two, white glaring eyes. A pair of great, obsidian wings stretched out magnificently before the woman in crimson and the rest of the astounded crowd.

The flames from the candles were suddenly extinguished, and the beautiful colors of the stained glass windows were nowhere to be seen in the fathomless darkness. It was like the temple was trapped in the gloom of eternal night.

The dark entity began to rise into the air, and the girl was revealed with her arms still raised over her head. Her soul-self ascended above her in the form of a majestic raven, its ebony wings flapping soundlessly above her.

Her eyes still flaring white, she dismissed the shadow, and as easily as she had summoned it, it disappeared in a swirl of black magic. Her cape settled around her body once more, and her eyes regained its original color.

The crowd broke into murmurs. She heard no words of approval, but rather tones of alarm and even fear. Obviously, the majority of the temple elders and her mentors didn't like what they saw.

"Well done."

The voice of the woman clad in crimson robes congratulated her, and at once the commotion had ceased. She approached the young girl with a warm smile. "You have succeeded in summoning your soul-self, and thus you are a true child of the Temple of Azarath. I congratulate you."

The girl removed her hood, revealing a pale, emotionless face and short lavender hair and a small, red gem on the center of her forehead. She bowed down to the woman and muttered, "Thank you, High Priestess—"

A muffled cry was heard, and the woman had fallen to her knees on the temple ground, clutching her heart. The girl dropped all formalities of the ceremony and went to her side. The shocked monks began to gather around the woman, but she gestured them to stay where they were.

"High Priestess, are you ill?" a voice from the crowd questioned.

The woman shook her head. "No, I am all right. Please do not be worried."

She looked to the girl at her side. "Raven, would you escort me out of the temple?"

The young empath nodded and slung one of Azar's arms around her. She lifted them both up from the ground and the crowd dispersed to make room for her. She walked to the double doors of the temple entrance and opened them.

As they walked through the streets, people bowed respectfully to the woman in crimson, who politely nodded to them. Many asked if she needed assistance when they saw the smaller girl helping her, but she responded with a kind smile and told them no.

Raven brought her in front of her home and they entered the living room.

"Azar, sit down and I'll make us some tea." She said, and the priestess did as she said.

"Child, you need not worry about me."

The girl shook her head as she heated a kettle of water and prepared the herbal tea. "You shouldn't have held the ceremony today. If you felt sick, you should've rested."

"Young Raven, I am fine," she assured her apprentice. "And what you are saying is nonsense. Today was your coming of age, and I would not cancel your ceremony just because of a few moments of discomfort."

"But you almost fainted, and this isn't the first time it's happened," the girl replied defiantly. She poured the boiling water into two mugs. The clear water turned a dark color from the tea herbs and flowers that were in the mugs, and she handed one to Azar who accepted it gratefully.

"Child, you are always so serious," the priestess said lightheartedly. "Stop worrying about my health for a second and congratulate yourself! Your soul-self has successfully taken a tangible form, you should be proud."

Raven bent her head and the steaming liquid inside her mug reflected her solemn countenance. "I don't know if I should be proud."

"Why is that?"

"Didn't you hear what the priests were saying?" Raven questioned. "They were afraid of what they saw."

"Do not listen to them," Azar consoled her. "Everyone's spiritual entity has a different form. Yours is no exception."

Not completely convinced, Raven said nothing and quietly sipped her tea. A knock sounded on the door, to which Azar replied, "You may enter."

The door opened and a small group of cloaked men stepped into the room. They were the elders of the temple, and they all served as Raven's mentors at one time or another.

"High Priestess, may we speak with you?" One of them asked, and settled his eyes on the adolescent girl. "Alone."

"Whatever you have to say to me, you can say in front of my apprentice."

They all shifted uncomfortably. Raven noticed this and stood from the chair.

"It's all right, Azar," she said without a hint of irritation. "I'm going to take a walk."

She made her way to the entrance, and the priests moved aside for her. She noticed the slight fear and anxiety in their eyes, but she didn't comment; she was used to it by now. She left the priests alone with Azar and closed the door behind her, not bothering to stay around to listen to what they had to say.

Raven walked out of the sanctuary of Azarath and into the woods that surrounded it. The shadows welcomed her, and she strolled down the worn path through the tall, aged trees.

The leaves were tinted with a hint of silver at the edges, and flowers of blue and white grew from the enchanted ground. The forests of Azarath were much different than those of Earth. She was sure of it.

She often took refuge in the forests that surrounded the cottage she lived in with her now deceased mother. She used to love walking to that clearing that was tucked away in the desolate part of the forest. She remembered just sitting there near the small pond and gazing at the stars until it was too cold to stay out.

But now that she thought about it, she wasn't happy back then. Being by herself day after day, unable to communicate to a distressed mother...that was not the ideal childhood.

No, Raven wasn't happy then. She wouldn't be happy until she found a white-haired boy with gentle blue eyes at the clearing. A boy who would talk to her, a boy she could laugh with, and the only one who was never afraid of her. Even when she accidentally revealed the dark powers she never understood until now.

She shook her head, and scolded herself. She shouldn't be dwelling on the past. Even if that boy accepted her, she never saw him again. She left Earth eight years ago, and she doubted that he even possessed the slightest inkling that she was now living in another dimension.

Still, she couldn't help but wonder what had become of him. Did he find the debris of her destroyed cottage and see the corpses of her mother and her killers? What was his reaction? What was he doing now? Did he remember her...was he looking for her?

Again, she chided herself. Wishful thinking wasn't going to reunite her with him. It wasn't going to bring him here.

Rorek is a memory. And she would have to deal with it, no matter how much she didn't want to.

* * *

He was dumped unceremoniously onto the ground. The portal closed up behind him as his eyes tried to focus on his new surroundings.

Silver treetops and unusual foliage greeted him. He was in a dark, undoubtedly strange forest of some sort. Gritting his teeth, he stood up on his feet, ignoring the warm blood that trickled from his injuries.

He was able to kill his attackers, but the bastards did a number on him before they met their demise. This new body was already on the verge of death before he possessed it, and the freshly inflicted wounds weren't making his condition any better.

He was too injured to heal himself. Even if he were able to heal his wounds, he would be left vulnerable.

This couldn't be the end. Not yet. He waited more than a millennium to finally experience the freedom he had longed for so long. Dying now was _not_ an option.

He figured that he would have to heal himself, but not here. This was out in the open; he would be _asking_ to be attacked. He needed somewhere more concealed where he would be kept out of sight.

He staggered through the forests, his blood leaving a crimson trail as he walked. He struggled to keep walking, even if every part of his body protested. Pain was only temporary, and then his strength would return to him soon enough...

Even though his will was made of steel, his body wasn't. His foot slipped and he stumbled against a tree. Frustrated with himself, he pushed against the trunk for support and struggled to stand on his feet. His head hung low as he tried to catch his breath, his unnaturally long white bangs spilling over his eyes.

That was when his ears picked up the sound of light footsteps, and his head shot up when he heard them.

Deep amethyst eyes stared at him in shock. Dark violet hair was cut to perfectly frame the sides of a youthful face that he found to be quite lovely, even in the terrible state he was in. Her small form was hidden in a long blue cape, which was held together by a circular red jewel.

The crimson gem embedded in the middle of her forehead confirmed it. It really was her. This is the girl, the one he had sworn to protect...

He saw recognition flash briefly in her eyes, and her pale, full lips parted slightly in surprise.

"You..." she muttered in a soft voice. "Is it really you...?"

He couldn't give her an answer even if he wanted to. The world faded from his view and so did she as he collapsed onto the ground.

* * *

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:**

**I know what most of you are thinking: what just happened here? Sorry if I confused any of you, but I promise that this story _does_ have a plot. I don't like to rush right in, and don't worry: like I said, everything will be explained. Anyway, thanks for your reviews, and I hope you stick around to read the rest! **


	3. Chapter Two: Malchior of Nole

Tainted Love

Chapter Two: Malchior of Nole

A dim room met him when his eyes opened. Candles were lit, their light scents lingering in the air. A grand mirror was suspended above a dark oak dresser, and bouquets of dried flowers hung on either side of it. Books were assembled onto shelves against a wall, and various objects of the strange and occult were arranged in different parts of the otherwise neat room.

How long had he been unconscious? More importantly, where was this place?

He was lying on something soft, and a thick blanket was covering him. He felt a stinging pain in his abdomen, and his hand automatically went to one of the wounds that his attackers had inflicted upon him earlier.

His fingers didn't find a slowly mending scar, but rather the feel of cotton fabric. He propped himself up with his arms, and found that he was shirtless. Bandages were wrapped snugly around his wounds, stained heavily with dried blood. He saw something lying on the dresser and discovered that it was his now tattered shirt, his black scarf, and his armor.

He suppressed a groan, and lied back down. His head was throbbing terribly, and pain wracked every inch of his body. He rested his head against the softness of the pillow, staring at the ceiling with half-lidded eyes. The room was very dark, save for the lit candles, and it was comforting to him. He didn't know whether it was day or night, but he was too exhausted to care.

He heard a door open and instantly closed his eyes, feigning unconsciousness. The door closed with a small creak, and he heard soft footsteps approaching him.

A slim arm slipped underneath his back, supporting him slightly above the mattress. He could feel the bandages unraveling slowly, the bits of gauze removing themselves from the wounds.

He knew that this wasn't being done by someone's hand; the person who was holding him up was casting a spell.

He was lowered gently back down on the mattress. A pair of small hands pressed gently against the exposed wound that ran across his abdominals. The skin of the slender fingers was soft and warm, but he fought back the urge to open his eyes.

Suddenly, a strange sensation overtook him. He sensed that the hands were emanating some form of energy, and his whole body began to tingle. The experience wasn't painful, it was quite the opposite. It was as if the pain was leaving him little by little. His wounds didn't ache nearly as much, and he could even feel them mending themselves.

Unable to restrain his curiosity, he cracked his eyes open. Through his long silver bangs, he found her above him with her hands placed on his wounds.

Her eyes were shut tightly in concentration, and shimmering blue light engulfed her hands.The expression on her face was that of pain, and he realized then what she was doing.

She was _healing_ him, and although it was obvious that she was injuring herself, she didn't break the spell.

However, everyone had their limits, and it was inevitable that she couldn't take anymore. Her hands left his wound and she could no longer stand. He feigned sleep once more as she struggled to regain her composure, her breath coming out in heavy pants. In a few more moments, she recovered, and he then heard the sound of water splashing. It became clear to him shortly when he felt a damp cloth upon his wounds. She was cleaning them now, and with great care. Next, he felt her applying some sort of balm; whatever it was, it stung slightly at first and then became surprisingly cool and soothing. Afterwards, he felt the familiar cotton fabric of gauze and bandages as they magically wrapped themselves around him with the help of the girl who was weaving the spell.

He expected her to leave after she was finished caring for him, but he didn't hear her footsteps heading toward the door. In fact, she remained close to him at his bedside. He could almost feel her breath on his flesh, and he knew those dark purple eyes of hers were staring at him, but he didn't flinch.

"...how did you get here?" he heard her ask softly. "Did you know that I was here? Did you know that this was where you would find me?"

He didn't even know where 'here' was, but she sounded so pleading that he was compelled to answer her.

But even so, was the question directed towards him, or was she expecting someone completely different to answer?

"I really hope that you're him...I really hope that you're Rorek..."

The last words were a whisper, almost inaudible, and he felt the mattress slightly depress as if a weight had been placed onto it. After a few minutes, he peeked through his bangs again and saw that she was sleeping soundly next to him, her head resting on her arms which were folded upon the mattress. He seized the opportunity and took this moment to examine his host.

And he found that she was indeed a beautiful creature.

She was the night personified in all its dark splendor. Her face and full lips were pale, like the moon shrouded in shadow, her short hair was the same dark shade of violet that painted the night sky after the light of the sun was nowhere to be seen. The red gem gleamed faintly on her forehead like a lone star above her closed eyes, which, for some reason, he wanted to see.

He remembered her eyes very well. Pools of dark amethyst that he found to be mysterious, yet alluring all the same. Like the stars at night, they seemed to glisten faintly with a silent beauty that many would spend their whole lifetimes to comprehend. Stoic, yet passionate, dark, yet enthralling...there was much more to this girl that lied beneath the surface. Her eyes said it all. He just _knew_ it.

A quiet moan escaped her lips, and her head shifted slightly against her arms, causing a strand of her hair to stray across her face. He felt an urge to push it back, and did so. He gently tucked the strand behind her ear, his fingers brushing against her cheek. Unsatisfied with just that light contact, he gently cupped a side of her lovely face with his hand. He savored the softness of her skin; it was like silk pressed against his palm. And for some inexplicable reason...the sight of her was extraordinarily calming.

He wasn't sure how long he was asleep, but he knew this: she had taken great care of him. She had even gone to the means of healing him herself, and it was clear to him that she used so much of her own strength that the process left her exhausted to the point that she practically passed out, like she was right now.

Such consideration and gentleness, and all for his sake...or _was_ it?

Her last words confirmed it. Although she wasn't absolutely certain, the girl believed him to be someone that he wasn't. The one she called 'Rorek' had passed on, but he couldn't very well tell her that. At least not now.

She looked peaceful sleeping, so much in fact that he almost regretted having to tell her the truth. How would she react when he would tell her that he wasn't Rorek, but someone completely different? Would she be frightened that she had been caring for a complete stranger? Would she reject him like so many had done before her?

Those questions would be answered some other time. For now, all he wanted to do was look at her until he fell victim to the inescapable clutches of sleep. As the moments passed, his hand left her cheek and rested against his side. He was cast off into the arms of a dreamless slumber, her sleeping form the last thing he saw before he succumbed to darkness.

* * *

Azar was worried, and she had good reason to be. Her apprentice has hardly taken a step out of her room for several days now. She was absent at the temple, nowhere to be found at meal times, and she didn't even take the time to meditate. It seemed that every waking moment she was tending to that strange young man she found bleeding to death in the forest. She remembered Raven bringing in his unconscious form and helping him to her bed. And despite the fact that she could only heal small wounds without doing much damage to herself, her apprentice used her powers to heal the young man's serious injuries. Azar had to nearly beg her to not go past her limit, but she would often find an exhausted Raven asleep at her guest's bedside. 

The way that her apprentice was acting around this stranger disturbed her. She was taught to suppress _all_ emotions. Raven was caring for this boy with such tenderness. Whenever she would look at him, Raven would get a distant look in her eyes that spoke of a despair that she hadn't seen since her mother died eight years ago. Even though she was now sixteen years of age, she still looked like that sorrowful little girl that she found in the rubble of a destroyed home.

Because Raven was like a daughter to her, Azar felt that it was wrong to look into her mind for the reasons to her strange behavior. It was obvious that this young man was someone that she knew, but _how_?

She stepped into the candlelit room of her apprentice, who was at the young man's bedside. Azar approached her, and placed a hand onto her shoulder, almost startling her as she did.

"Child," Azar addressed her, "how are you?"

"I'm fine," she quickly replied, getting up to her feet.

"I see that you've taken up a bit of reading," the older woman said, implying the open book that laid forgotten on the floor next to Raven's feet.

"Yeah, I read a few chapters."

Raven's eyes darted downwards towards the sleeping boy, and Azar took note of it.

"I have not spoken to you for a while, and I was wondering if you would accompany me for some tea?"

She nodded, guilt apparent in her features. "Sure, I'll get it ready."

Raven left the room to prepare the tea, leaving the priestess alone with the seemingly unconscious young man. She studied him with scrutinizing eyes, wondering what it was about him that compelled Raven to be by his side constantly.

_"It's quite rude to stare at people, you know."_

She was surprised to hear the voice telepathically communicating to her, but she was quick to respond. _"And it is rather deceptive to feign unconsciousness as well."_

_"Not very trusting of me, are you sorceress?"_

_"Why should I be?"_

_"No need to be hostile, woman. I am not harming anyone."_

_"Perhaps, but that is because you are incapable of doing so."_

The voice chuckled. _"If you're concerned about the girl, don't be. I have no intentions of hurting her."_

_"Then what **are** your intentions?"_

_"Well now, that's a bit personal. I'm afraid that I can't tell you."_

Azar concentrated and tried to enter his mind, only to be blocked immediately.

_"Don't even try it," _he threatened.

Her lips settled into a deep frown. _"Hear me now. If you harm so much as a hair on her head—"_

_"Are you deaf? I told you that I have no intentions of hurting her. Besides, it isn't me that you need to be worried about."_

His words were stern and somewhat protective as if he was telling the truth, and his last sentence only produced more questions. Normally, she was more trusting of people, but there was something unsettling about this young man that made her wary of him.

"Azar, the tea's ready," Raven's voice broke her thoughts, and she turned away from the bed to her apprentice. She followed her out of the room, throwing one last stern look at Raven's guest before shutting the door.

They both sat at the table, two mugs and a kettle full of tea waiting for them. Raven began drinking hers, and Azar did the same.

Although she appeared to be unemotional, the priestess knew that she was anything but. The arrival of her new guest sent Raven into a state of restlessness that Azar had never seen.

If she wasn't going to look for the answers she wanted by probing her mind, then Azar would have to directly confront her about it.

"Raven?"

Her lips left the edge of the mug and she looked at her.

"That young man...you know him, do you not?"

"...yes, I do."

Seeing her hesitation, Azar decided to continue. "How do you know him, child? Is he an acquaintance of yours?"

Raven took another moment to sip her tea before speaking again. "He's someone that I knew from Earth."

Azar was surprised at the information. She never knew that Raven came into social contact with anyone else other than her mother. "A close friend?"

"I guess you can say that. When I was eight years old, I met him in the forests that surrounded my house."

"When was that?"

"A week before my mother died..."

Raven trailed off, and silence prevailed between them. The scars of her mother's death were still apparent, despite her efforts to seem impassive. Azar couldn't blame her; Raven was a child, and to witness the murder of her mother without comprehending death was horrible beyond words.

"Raven," she spoke gently, "are you certain that he is who you think he is?"

The violet-haired girl stared at her, seemingly unaffected by her doubt. "He has to be him, Azar."

Azar bit her lip before asking, "But how do you know it is him, child? It is unlikely that a boy that you met eight years ago could possibly find out your whereabouts and know that you have been living in an alternate dimension—"

"Rorek isn't a normal human," Raven interjected. "He can cast magic."

Azar assumed that Rorek was the name of the young man. "Still, few people know how to reach Azarath. One must be extremely skilled in the field of magic to successfully open a portal to here. How is possible that someone you knew as a child could possess that kind of power?"

Raven was quiet as she contemplated her mentor's words, but she spoke, "Azar, I can't explain it, but I know that he _is_ Rorek."

"Do you know it is him, or do you want to _believe_ it is him?"

Her question struck her apprentice speechless. The fragrant aroma of the tea drifted lazily in the air, the silence all the more awkward and overbearing. Azar never interrogated Raven like this, but she didn't like the way she was behaving around this boy. What bothered her more was the possibility that the young man might end up to be someone completely different, and she was afraid of how Raven would take it.

"I'm...I'm not sure," her voice was quiet, "but I just...I don't know. Even though I'm not absolutely certain, I feel that he is Rorek."

"Raven, I just do not want to see you hurt."

She smiled slightly. "I know, Azar. But...he was the only one who wasn't scared of me. When he found out about my powers, he didn't run away. Even if it was for a short while, he made me feel accepted for the first time in my life. Perhaps it's childish of me to think that I actually have found someone that I haven't seen for so long, but I guess I can't help that."

After listening to that, Azar couldn't bring herself to tell Raven about what the young man had telepathically said to her. She meant it when she said she didn't want to see Raven hurt, and she didn't want to be the one to do it. Time could only tell if that boy was who Raven said he was, and she would have to wait until then.

But no matter the outcome, no matter if that man turned out to be this 'Rorek' or not, one thing was for certain: Azar would be there for Raven. She was the daughter she never had, and nothing was ever going to change that.

* * *

_Everything was consumed in fire. The flames licked hungrily at anything that was in its path, and heavy smoke curled thickly from the destruction. Screams of torment rang horribly through the air like a grotesque melody. The thick scent of blood intermingled with the clouds of ashes that rose from the fire, which continued to feed insatiably._

_Darkness prevailed over the rising flames, and among the shadows, someone was watching. Two pairs of thin slits of golden light overlooked the chaos with much enjoyment. Lips curled into a sadistic smile, revealing rows of pointed fangs. Twisted laughter was heard among the agonized screams, and the golden eyes continued to watch as more blood tainted the air..._

Raven woke with a start to discover that she was in her room by the white-haired boy's side. Her head was aching and beads of sweat formed on her brow. Her heart was beating irregularly, but she tried to calm herself in spite of that. After all, it was only a nightmare. It's not like any of that really happened...

But that was what she was telling herself every time she had that dream.

It was the same nightmare over and over again, and she was very uneasy about it. She could actually feel the ashes and the embers of the fire, she could smell the blood.

And those eyes...they haunted her even when she was awake. They were cold and merciless. She saw them every time in her dreams, and what was strange was that she felt like she saw those eyes once before.

She heard a slight groan, and her eyes fell upon the unconscious form of the young man in her bed. He has been unconscious for over a week now, but his wounds were surprisingly healing at a rapid rate. Even with her powers, it would take much longer for a normal human being to recover from what he had gone through. In fact, it was a miracle that he was alive.

He was skinny, but she could still make out the lean muscles underneath the bandages. His long white hair was sprawled against the pillow and mattress, his bangs practically covering his closed eyes. His face was slightly feminine, and his long lashes added to that, but he was still attractive in his own way. In fact, she thought that he was very handsome.

She felt her cheeks getting warm, and she was embarrassed. She shouldn't be thinking about those kinds of things, especially about a childhood friend. It was wrong.

Still, she couldn't help but look at him. Knowing that he was actually here was something that filled her with a happiness she hadn't experienced since the days she would spend with Rorek when they were children. Raven was looking forward to the day he would wake up. There was so much that she wanted to know, and she had a lot of things to tell him as well...

An ominous feeling suddenly gripped her heart, breaking her reverie. She could sense something very dark manifesting, but she didn't know what it was. There was a malicious force entering Azarath, and it was intent on achieving its goal. Whatever that was, Raven felt that it couldn't be good. Something was going to happen, something terrible...

Screams broke the tranquil silence, and crimson light flashed in the darkness outside. Before she could even react, a beam of blinding red light shot through her room, decimating part of the roof above her. She quickly put up a shield around her and Rorek, protecting them from the falling rubble.

When the dust cleared, the fact that most of her room was now lying in ruins didn't phase her. What she saw was utter destruction.

Houses had collapsed into heaps of debris, and flames were devouring them. She saw bodies lying outside, some groaning in pain, and others not moving at all. The scent of ash and smoke was overbearing, and the cries of sorrow and bewilderment rose from the chaos.

Raven was sickened and frightened by what she saw. Any form of violence was forbidden on Azarath, and someone had broken that sacred law.

The trail of destruction led to the temple, where the daily prayer service was being held. Azar was sure to be there...

She cast a glance towards Rorek, who was undamaged by the attack. She didn't want to leave him here by himself, but she felt that he would be safe here for the time being. Whoever did all this was heading to the temple, and she couldn't just stand here doing nothing.

Slipping her hood over her head, she levitated off the ground and headed to the temple.

* * *

There were five of them. All of them were wearing black cloaks that hid their faces from view. They all had the same air around them; sinister and remorseless. 

Her followers were crowded behind her, both the elderly and the young looking at the outsiders with fear and apprehension in their eyes. The priests were at her side, but they too seemed petrified with horror.

She took a step away from the crowd, her deep red robes setting her apart from the others. "Strangers, why have you disrupted our prayer?"

The leader stepped forth and replied, "You know why we have come, priestess."

"I am afraid that I do not," she stated firmly.

"Do not play games with me, woman," he threatened. "We have come for the child."

"Look around you. Every man and woman you see before you is a child of Azarath," she said, gesturing to the crowd.

The cloaked figure chortled. "I could not care less for you worthless bunch of wretches. What we want is the girl. And believe me..."

Without warning, a ray of blood red light sent one priest beside her flying against a pillar. Cries of alarm and fear sounded throughout the crowd as some gathered to help the fallen man.

"There will be consequences if our demands are not met." He finished, his lips twisted into a sardonic smile.

She always feared that this would happen. Today was the day that they had finally arrived for her young apprentice. They have come for Raven, and they seemed to go to any lengths to get her.

What was she to do? To fight back would be a sacrilege. How could she preach pacifism to her followers if she didn't uphold the values of her own teachings? But she wasn't going to give them Raven. She promised Arella that she would take care of her daughter. And who knows what will happen if _he_ were to ever be revived again...

"Quit stalling, priestess," he hissed. "Either give us the girl, or else—"

A pair of large objects engulfed in black flames hurdled themselves toward the cloaked figures and knocked them down onto the floor. She saw that they were the double set doors of the temple entrance, and her eyes went from the fallen men to the hooded figure of the girl that attacked them.

The leader was the first to stand, and he too saw the girl. "Raven of Azarath, I presume?"

She glowered at him menacingly. "And you are?"

"My dear, we have been looking for you," he spoke as his followers slowly got back onto their feet. "Now that you are here, you must come with us."

"Why should I?" she snapped.

He chuckled. "Our master wishes it. He is expecting us to bring you to him, and we are not leaving without you."

"Tell your master that I'm not going anywhere," Raven replied, her hands glowing black with energy.

"I beg to differ," he answered calmly. "For if you don't, we will destroy what is left of your home and slaughter every man, woman, and child here. Starting with the priestess."

The crowd broke into a tumult, cries of horror and anxiety echoing off the temple walls. Azar stared at Raven, whose hands stopped emitting magic and rested limply at her sides, her dark eyes glaring at the cloaked figures.

"So have we reached an agreement?"

"No!" Azar cried, running towards them. She wasn't going to let this happen; she knew Raven would concede if their lives were at stake. "You will not take her—"

She was sent reeling back with a powerful spell. Her robed figure was sprawled onto the ground, jolts of red energy entrapping her.

She heard the screams of her followers as she fought back the pain, but none of them dared to take the risk of touching her. The spell was too strong, and she was unable to break it. The pain didn't stop until she heard a familiar voice crying out over the chaos.

"Stop it!" Raven shouted, her words desperate and almost begging. "I'll go with you, just _stop_!"

The cloaked figure smiled again, and he released Azar from his spell. "Very well then."

The leader approached Raven with his allies trailing behind him, and they walked out of the temple. Ignoring the pleads and questions of her followers, Azar struggled to her feet and followed them. She limped through the ashes and debris, wanting nothing more than to stop Raven from leaving Azarath.

She could see them entering the forest, where she knew the portal would be waiting for them.

"Raven, stop!" She cried, but their figures disappeared into the darkness. She tried to run faster, but she tripped and fell onto the ground.

"High Priestess, are you all right?" someone questioned, and she felt two pairs of arms lifting her up to her feet.

"Release me!" she shouted. "I have to go after her!"

"You cannot! They are far too powerful to fight! High Priestess, there is nothing that we can do!"

Her attempts to struggle were futile, and for the first time in a long while, she felt her eyes stinging with tears. Frustration and guilt ate her from the inside. She couldn't stop them from taking her, and now...she didn't know what she could do. She would die if she went after them, but what was going to happen to Raven? How was she going to return...?

"Count on a bunch of priests to do nothing while a beautiful girl is being kidnapped."

All eyes were fixated on the tall, slim figure of a young man that stood above the ruins of what was once her apprentice's room. His ice blue eyes seemed to mock them, and his long white hair fell against his back. He was wearing strange armor, and his face was partially hidden by the cloth of a black scarf.

"No wonder I never had much faith in religion," he mused.

"She willingly went with them!" a priest shouted. "We could do nothing about it! It goes against our teachings of pacifism—"

"Pacifism? You actually practice that garbage?" he taunted, chuckling as he did.

"It was _her_ choice to go with them!" another voice yelled.

"And you all seemed to be all right with it. You allowed a helpless girl to go with those men because you were too spineless to fight back. It doesn't matter to you whether or not they kill her, you just want to save your own skins, right?"

No one answered, and the young man just laughed cynically at them. "Of course. Let someone else die for you, just as long as you don't have to."

He walked away from the ruins of Raven's room and headed towards the forest.

"Wait!" Azar cried after him, and he stopped. "You're going after her, aren't you?"

"Sorceress, I told you that you don't have to worry," he replied. "Whether you believe it or not, I'm the last person in this world that would harm her."

That being said, Azar watched him until he too disappeared into the shadows.

* * *

A barren wasteland stretched out before her, the horizon endless and foreboding. The sky was dark, and the wind was harsh as it bit through her cape. There were no signs of life, only emptiness. 

Was this the same Earth that she was lived on? What happened to the people? What happened to the sun?

"Move along now," the leader of the cloaked figures chided her. "We have much ground to cover."

Restraining herself from striking him, she obeyed. If she made a run for it now, they would surely follow her and stay true to their threat. She would have to do as they said for now, at least until she felt that she wasn't putting the lives of the citizens of Azarath at risk.

Two men were walking in front of her while the other three brought up the rear. She was surrounded, but that would soon change. She'll get the opportunity to escape, she just had to wait for it.

Her eyes stared at the cloak that the man in front of her was wearing. Without a doubt, it bore semblance to the one that her mother's murderers wore. These men were connected with those killers, she knew it. Did Azar know that as well? Did she know that these men would come to Azarath?

Pained cries rang out, and she whirled around to see three cloaked figures collapsed onto the dirt. A bolt of white light sped past her and struck the man behind her.

"What in hell?!" The leader shouted, only to be knocked down by the same white light. He was on the ground, groaning with pain.

Raven examined the bodies before her. Neither one was making a sound, or even writhing in pain. She kneeled next to one of them and turned him onto his back and removed his hood. The whites of his eyes stared blankly up at her, and his slackened jaw hung open grotesquely.

_Is...is he dead...?_

"It's not polite to force a girl to leave her home, you know," a smooth, English voice spoke. She tilted her head upwards to see a young man standing beside her.

His hands and legs were protected with brilliant armor, and the letter 'M' was skillfully engraved on his chest plate, and a black scarf was wrapped around his mouth and nose. The wind ran through the endless locks of his white hair, and long bangs swayed above two blue eyes.

"And just who are you?!" the leader sputtered. "You _dare_ to disrupt our plans?!"

"I'd say that I already have," he replied amusingly.

"Fool, you have no idea who you are dealing with!"

He drew closer to the fallen man, his footsteps heavy upon the dirt underneath them. "I know exactly who I'm dealing with."

The cloaked figure seemed to lose all confidence and he backed away as quickly as possible from the young man, but to no avail. He backed up against a tree, and he was too afraid to stand on his feet again.

The white-haired boy glared down at him, his lips forming a grin from underneath his scarf.

"A dead man."

And with that, bolts of white light formed from his palm and encircled the fallen man. He howled in pain, but his screams seemed to be like soothing music to his attacker's ears, for his spell intensified. The screams grew louder, and blood dribbled thickly from the man's mouth.

Raven couldn't stand to see anyone being tormented, regardless of what they have done. She stood up from the ground and rushed towards the young man.

"Stop!" she cried, and his blue eyes fell upon her. "Stop hurting him!"

To her amazement, the young man chuckled. "As you wish, love."

He ceased his spell, and the man was free of the bolts of light that bound him. He was violently coughing, blood running down his lips and fingers as his body shook uncontrollably. He looked up at his attacker and the violet-haired girl next to him, and scampered onto his feet and ran, almost tripping over his robe as he did.

Raven observed the young man beside her. Was this really the boy that she met as a child? Would Rorek ever have the cruelty to torture someone to death just as this person did now?

His eyes were not warm and kind like Rorek's, but they were rather cold and piercing like ice. And his voice...Raven was certain that Rorek's didn't have an English accent.

And she knew for a fact that he wouldn't find pleasure in killing others.

"You're...you're not Rorek, are you?" the question slipped from her lips, her worst fear embodied in the words she spoke.

He turned to Raven, his tall figure towering above her. "You are correct, fair maiden."

To make things more absurd, he bowed low before her, taking her hand into one of his. He pulled down his scarf, and his lips planted a soft kiss on her hand, sending delightful chills up her arm. His ice blue eyes looked at her from underneath his bangs, a charming smile lifting the corners of his thin lips.

"Malchior of Nole, at your service."

* * *

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:**

**FINALLY! I'm so happy to update this story, and with a fairly long chapter too! Yes, I know it still hasn't picked up, but it will in time. Thanks for all your support! I'm always happy to read your reviews.**

**Speaking of which, I have a few to answer!**

**Rhea Hiryuu: Lol, well here it is. I'm happy that you like reading this story, and I can't wait to read your sequel. Don't procrastinate now!**

**Blackshield: Thank you for leaving me an in-depth review. I'm glad that you think this story is wonderful, and yes, I too like to think that she was born with the chakra. Believe me, there will be lots of twists and turns in this story, and I hope to make the plot more complex. Yes, I know I make grammatical mistakes, but I have a habit to overlook them. Thanks for pointing them out, though. And I hope that this update has made you happy like the last one did.**

**Kagomeandinuyasha4ever: I appreciate the enthusiasm, I really do. I'll try to update both my fics as soon as I can, that is, if my research papers don't get to me first.**

**Red Moon Kree: I love your story The Paper Rose: it's beautifully written and I always look forward to the next update. I'm very flattered that you put this story on your favorites, and I think that you too are a great writer. Good luck on your next update!**

**Well, until the next chapter everybody. Thanks for taking the time to read and review! **


	4. Chapter Three: Answers

Tainted Love

Chapter Three: Answers

_"Why are you not worried, High Priestess?!"_

_Azar merely stared back at the group of priests in her living room while the steam from her herbal team snaked in the air. "Why should I be?"_

_"It took the form of a black bird!" the man rambled. "You saw it, we all did!"_

_"I believe it is called a 'raven', dear priest," she coolly answered. "In case you've forgotten, that is her name. It would only seem fitting that her soul-self took the form that it did."_

_"That is **not** the point!" the priest protested exasperatedly. "It took the form of the creature of disharmony and malice! The symbol of **death**, High Priestess! It is an omen!"_

_"I think that you're being rather rash," Azar replied._

_"And you're not being reasonable!"_

_"You question my logic, priest?" she asked icily, a trait that was uncharacteristic of the patient and saintly woman._

_The priest's eyes widened and he suddenly looked apologetic. He took a step back with his head bowed low. _

_"Forgive us, High Priestess," an elder stepped away from the group. "As her mentors, we are only concerned." _

_She regained her composure and her eyes settled on him, silently encouraging him to continue speaking._

_"I know how much you have come to love her like your own child," he began. "But even you cannot deny the fact that there is something very unsettling about Raven."_

_"She cannot help that."_

_"I know. We all do. But even though we have trained her to suppress that evil, nothing can change the fact that it dwells within her. The summoning at today's ceremony is proof of that."_

_"She summoned her soul-self perfectly. Not once did Raven lose control of her powers, you saw it yourselves."_

_"Yes, we did. But High Priestess, how much longer will she be able to restrain those powers?"_

_"What do you mean?"_

_"As you said, her summoning was flawless. However, her soul-self manifested into something malevolent. Something that is evil and that can very well consume her._

_"Raven has proven to be a gifted child of the Temple of Azarath. She has control of her emotions, but for how long, High Priestess?"_

_Azar's eyes fell upon the table, not certain of how to answer._

_"Can you honestly say Raven will always prevent herself from succumbing to her emotions, even in times of great distress? Can you say that you are certain that the evil that taints her soul will never be unleashed?_

_"High Priestess, have you even told her the truth yet?"_

_"No...I have not."_

_Her answer caused the priests to break out into murmurs. Even though they had served as Raven's mentors, they were still afraid of the pupil whom they themselves had taught. They, and the rest of Azarath, were too frightened of the girl, and they never took the chance to understand her. Not like Azar did._

_"I have taught Raven everything I know," she said, the clarity of her voice rising over their murmurs. "She has spent every day meditating and perfecting her skills in order to restrain her emotions. You all fear what she is capable of, but you fail to notice what she has accomplished."_

_Neither of them protested; the words of their high priestess were final. Azar brought the mug to her lips and she felt the warm liquid gushing down her throat. After she was finished, she placed the mug down onto the table and looked confidently at the priests._

_"Raven knows what will happen if she were ever to lose control over her emotions, and she has done everything in her power to prevent that from happening. And I have faith that she will continue to do so."_

* * *

The conversation lingered in her mind. The priests were frightened of Raven, they always were, and their fears only grew after they witnessed her soul-self at the ceremony. 

It was uncanny to even believe that a bunch of elders would be terrified of the same little girl that she found in the rubble of a broken home. The same girl who was holding her dead mother's hand, her face expressionless and her dark eyes blank.

But she was not little anymore. The supposed carefree world of childhood was lost to her. The feeble child she adopted was now the young woman of sixteen who was sitting across from her at the table.

And she knew that she wanted answers more than anything.

"Raven," she addressed her gently. "Are you sure that you are all right?"

She simply nodded. "They didn't hurt me."

No words could describe the relief Azar had felt when she saw Raven and the strange young man emerging from the dark forests. She had to restrain herself from embracing her, but nothing kept Azar from asking if she was all right or if she needed anything.

"Azar?"

She looked at the violet-haired girl, surprised at the hint of anxiety in her deep, monotone voice.

"Yes?"

"...those men...they looked like the ones who killed my mother."

Azar was silent for a moment, but she knew what her apprentice was heading. "Yes. They did."

"What do they want?" Raven questioned. "Why did they come after me?"

She almost dreaded the time that she would have to tell Raven the truth, but she knew it was inevitable. And of all people, Raven deserved to know.

"They are after you because of who you are, Raven."

Bewilderment swirled in her usually inexpressive eyes. "What...what do you mean?"

"A human woman, your mother, brought you into this world, Raven. But...the blood that runs through your veins is not that of just a human's."

Her eyes widened a bit, the traces of realization dawning a bit, but the bewilderment was still there.

"Then, what am I?"

Azar took a deep breath. She wished that she wouldn't have to tell her this. If it were up to her, Raven would never know, but she had to. She _had_ to know who she was.

"You are half-demon, Raven."

Raven remained motionless, and gazed at Azar, which was a sign to encourage her to continue. Azar was not certain how she was feeling now that she knew she was not completely human. Apparently she had trained Raven so well that not even the new knowledge of being half-demon seemed to phase her.

But as much as she wished to believe that, Azar knew that it had affected Raven. It affected her, and will continue to do so, more than she would ever know.

"How?" she asked after a postponed silence.

"Your mother Arella ran away from her home when she was seventeen years old. Afterwards, she discovered what she believed to be a church, and its followers welcomed her as one of their own. However, unbeknownst to your mother, this 'church' was actually a cult of satanic worshippers with one goal in mind: to bring the Demon Lord Trigon to Earth."

Recognition crossed her features, and her lips parted slightly. Azar knew that Raven had read many books that mentioned the terrifying and horrendous acts of the demon Trigon, which was going to make this all the more difficult to tell her...

"The cult managed to bring Trigon to their dimension, but he had no power on Earth. It took great effort on both parts of the cult and himself to even open a portal. In order for his evil to manifest on Earth, he needed a link. He needed an heir.

"And so, Trigon appeared before your mother as a human man. He deceived her and brought her to his dimension, where she became his wife and he raped her."

Azar hated saying that particular word, but it was the truth. She observed the way Raven winced, but her eyes told her to continue.

"It was not until afterwards that he revealed to your mother what he truly was. Arella did not even have the slightest inkling that she offered herself as a bride to the Devil until she saw him. He cast her away from his dimension and back to Earth. When she returned, your mother was alone once again, and this time she was on the brink of suicide."

"...what stopped her?" the girl asked softly. "Why didn't she go through with it?"

"I believe it was because she could not bring herself to do it. Even knowing that she would someday conceive the child of Trigon, she could not take her own life. That would mean killing the unborn child inside of her. That would mean killing _you_, Raven."

Raven fell silent again, gazing at Azar attentively.

"Your mother settled outside of a small town and gave birth to you. She raised you until the day she was murdered."

Raven cast her eyes away from her mentor and to the table. There was no emotion in her eyes, no emotion on her face. If it had been anyone else in her apprentice's position, they would be in hysterics or utter denial.

But Raven did neither. There were no cries of disbelief. There were no lashing words of anger. Just silence.

"So...so my powers..." Raven finally began, "The reason why I have these powers is because...I'm a daughter of a demon?"

Azar said nothing, but nodded solemnly.

"Is that why you came to my mother that one day? Is that why you brought me to Azarath?"

"I sensed that some form of Trigon's malice dwelled on Earth, and I went to search for it. I ended up meeting your mother, and then I met you."

"Why didn't my mother go with you? Why didn't you take us both to Azarath before she was killed?"

"Your mother was hesitant, Raven, and with good reason. She raised you herself for eight years with the fear that one day someone would know what she did and they would come after you. I told her that I would give her time to think about beginning a new life with you in Azarath. Neither I nor your mother knew that she would be killed shortly after I spoke with her."

The empath took a moment to absorb the information, her seemingly expressionless eyes staring back at Azar.

"Raven, I am truly sorry that I did not tell you—"

"I'm dangerous, aren't I?"

The directness of her question halted Azar in mid-sentence.

"You and the elders trained me because of what I am," Raven continued. "My emotions are dangerous. That's why you taught me to suppress them."

Azar answered her with a nod. "Yes. Because of your origins, your powers are triggered by moments in which you experience strong emotion."

"So if I lost control of my emotions..._he_ would be free?"

She would have given anything to not answer that, but she had to. Lying was not going to make the situation any better, and she could not do that to her apprentice.

"...yes. You must suppress all of your emotions in order to harness your powers. If your emotions were ever to overwhelm you, your father's evil will be unleashed."

The uneasy silence settled between them once again. Azar did not say anything else, for she felt that the girl had been told enough today.

Wordlessly, Raven stood from the table and turned away.

"Raven...?"

"I'll be in my room," she said monotonously, and left.

Azar watched her as she walked out of the living room to her chamber.

"You treat her horribly."

A foreign voice said from the entrance, eliminating any beliefs she had that she was alone.

"What are you talking about?" she asked almost crossly.

The young man stepped into the living room, his blue eyes scorning the priestess.

"I mean you and the priests. You treat her like she is a monster."

"We do no such thing," Azar stated firmly. "Do not judge what you have no knowledge of, outsider."

"I don't have to live in this place to know that those idiots fear her," he retorted. "I saw the terror in their eyes when I brought her back. I saw how they all avoided her. Just like they would if she truly were a monster."

Azar glared at him silently, keeping herself from losing her temper.

"She seems to hold you in the highest regards. It's such a shame that she can't even turn to you for comfort."

"You are wrong," she replied. "Raven is like a daughter to me—"

"And yet ultimately you see her the same way they do: as a threat. A threat to herself, and a threat to all of you. And what's worse is that you've forbidden her from ever experiencing any shred of emotion because you're afraid of what could happen to you—"

"I am afraid of what could happen to Raven!" Azar exclaimed. "You have no right to speak, you do not know anything about her!"

"On the contrary, sorceress," he coolly replied. "I know more about her than you could imagine."

The arrogance in his words made her almost livid, but she said nothing. She would not let this pompous youth get the better of her.

"When you took her from Earth, you taught her to restrain her emotions in fear of what could happen. It seems easy enough, doesn't it? All she has to do is be indifferent to everything, and it's like the evil inside of her never existed."

She regarded him in silence with a deep frown on her face, but he could not care less and only continued.

"But it's not that simple. Do you have any idea what you've done to her?"

The contempt in his blue eyes seemed to burn from underneath his long white bangs, and Azar felt as if they were boring holes into her.

"You've put her in a prison," he declared coldly. "She has to force herself to never feel anything for all your sakes."

He turned his back to her and walked towards the entrance again. "You all truly are fools. She cannot change who she is. No matter how much she tries to keep her emotions locked away, the reality is that she is still the child of a demon."

His footsteps were heavy on the floorboards as he was about to walk outside of the dwelling. He stopped at the entrance, and without looking back at the priestess, he spoke once more.

"Can she even cry?" he questioned. "Can she even allow herself to be happy? Or have you forced her to believe that even experiencing a fleeting moment of joy or sorrow is a sin?"

Azar was silent, and he chuckled callously.

"I thought so. I guess she can't even shed a tear without believing that it could put others at risk."

The priestess watched him as he left, the heavy steps of his polished greaves fading away while he walked. When she was certain that he was gone, her head sunk into the palms of her hands.

"My dear Raven," the words trickled from her lips. "What does Fate have in store for you?"

* * *

Mutilated bodies lied in a tangled heap. Limbs and bones were twisted in grotesque ways, and blood painted everything crimson. Some were decapitated, and their heads were placed on sharpened pikes like hideous decorations. The expressions of each face were distorted with pain and anguish that were unimaginable. 

And standing above the appalling scene was the towering figure of a demon armed with a giant spear. His skin was a deep red, and long white hair fell to the small of his back. Four thin slits of gold served as his eyes, and she saw that they held no remorse or compassion.

Like all the other books, his eyes held only bloodlust and malevolence. The same eyes of gold looked at her from the open pages of the books that were scattered around her. After she talked with Azar, she felt an urge to look through her library. She knew that she wouldn't be able to find the answers she sought, but she had to look through them. How the confirmation that her father was indeed the most horrifying demon in all of existence was comforting was unknown to her, but she needed to leaf through the pages of her books. Right now, they were the only things that didn't hide secrets from her. Books couldn't lie, books couldn't hold back information from her. They were straightforward. They could never deceive her because they were created to be sincere. Books weren't like people.

It all made sense, though. Raven always knew that she wasn't normal by human standards, or any standards for that matter. She knew that she was different, but even she couldn't imagine that she was the daughter of a demon from another dimension.

Still, the fact that she possessed demonic blood would explain things. She was always aware that her emotions somehow triggered her powers, but the fact that she could become evil incarnate just from the slightest spark of emotion was new to her.

Who she was, or rather _what_ she was, gave her mother enough reason to hide her in their home. It gave the priests reason to avoid her, it explained why Azar took her under her personal tutelage and taught her so much. She was the spawn of the Demon Lord Trigon. She held an evil that could wipe out humanity if she couldn't contain it.

After knowing all this, how could she possibly blame people for fearing her? How could she blame Azar for training her to imprison her own emotions? What would have Rorek thought...?

Her eyes lifted from the pages and stared off into space. She remembered how messy his mop of white hair always was, and how it always had a habit of hiding his gentle blue eyes if he didn't brush it away. His voice was always so kind, and she never found fear in his words or distrust in his eyes whenever he talked to her. Would he have been her friend if he had known what she was? Would he treat her with such compassion if he actually knew that she was Trigon's daughter?

In any case, there was no way Raven could know. The person that she thought was Rorek, the person she had foolishly hoped was her childhood friend, wasn't him at all. He was someone else. He was a stranger. Rorek was gone.

When he told her that he wasn't Rorek, she felt any shred of hope she had vanish. She could sense that this 'Malchior' wasn't Rorek either; his eyes were too calculating, and his voice was nothing like his. Malchior was an entirely different person, and as much as she didn't want to believe it, the one person who accepted her was gone.

She was childish to think that he had come for her. Azar was right, but Raven was too foolish to believe it. What good were emotions if they only caused her pain and irritation? The hopes that she held were pointless, and she would be lying if she said that she wasn't disappointed that the person she thought she knew turned out to be someone else.

But then how did Malchior find her? She knew that he was obviously a mage of some sort, but what could he possibly want? What compelled him to save her and bring her back to Azarath?

...his name sounded so familiar. For some reason, she felt that she had come across it somewhere before.

Her eyes went to the bookcase, and she stood up from the ground. She was certain that her books would once again provide her with the answers she needed.

* * *

He stepped into the living room to see that it was empty. Quietly, he closed the door behind him and carefully walked across the room. When he reached her door, he pressed his ear against the wooden surface. The silence on the other side encouraged him to enter, and he did. 

He found her lying on the floor of the dark chamber. Books were messily scattered around her in which a four-eyed demon glared from each of their pages. A few candles provided her with light with their dying flames, but it seemed that they were no use to her now. She was asleep.

He approached her as soundlessly as he could and kneeled next to her sleeping form. Her head was resting on the pages of an open book. The illustration of what seemed to be a dragon peeked at him through the strands of violet hair that was sprawled on the page.

She moaned slightly and shifted uncomfortably on the floor, but she didn't wake. Gently, he picked her up and cradled her in his arms. She was very light, and he was able to place her onto her bed with ease. He pulled the blankets over her, and he couldn't help but feel compelled to watch her as she slept like he had done before.

His fingers traced her cheek as she slept. She looked so peaceful right now, and a part of him wished that she could always know that peace.

They all thought of her as a threat. They drilled it into her mind that her emotions were dangerous, that at least half of her was evil. Well, what would it matter? She couldn't help what she is, and she shouldn't be forbidden to feel anything just for the sakes of a bunch of cowards. If she wanted to be happy, if she wanted to be sad, that should be her right. It should be her choice, regardless what anyone said.

Despite everything he discovered about her, he wasn't afraid of her. He was surprised, however; he would have never imagined that the essence of the demon Trigon would lie dormant within the petite form of a young maiden. And he was certain that Rorek wouldn't have thought that, either.

But even if the boy knew, he would still want to protect her. He was sure of that. And Malchior would keep that promise. He didn't know what would make him actually stay true to his word, but he would do it. Perhaps it was because he pitied the boy.

Or perhaps there was something about this girl that made him want to protect her.

A murmur left her lips. He did not panic or leave her side. He simply stroked her hair and drank her lovely image as she slept.

"Sweet Raven...you do not have to worry. Regardless of who you are, I am here to protect you."

He was silent as he continued to watch her sleep. He did not leave until the feeble rays of the sun stretched across Azarath.

* * *

**A/N:**

**WHEEEEE! Another chapter down, and so many others to go...ah well.**

**Here's some answers to some reviews!**

**Rhea Hiryuu: Lol, I enjoy our talks as well. Thanks for your reviews, I always love reading them. Don't worry, I'm sure my reports will be ok...or at least I'm sure they'll be passing grades.**

**Blackshield: I like ur reviews regardless whether they're short or not. The fact that you are reading this story is enough for me. I did enjoy writing about how Raven was healing Malchior, and don't worry. You'll know about the guys in the cloaks soon enough.**

**Kagomeandinuyasha4ever: Lol, I don't know if he's being perverted, but I'm glad that you think Malchior makes the story better. Thanks again for your enthusiasm, it always makes me smile.**

**Red Moon Kree: actually, I'm not positive how I'm gonna pull Rorek back into this, but I have an idea. Thanks for your feedback, and I hope to see The Paper Rose updated.**

**DITZY: Although I'm not absolutely positive on the spelling, I'm pretty sure that Malchior pronounces it 'Nole'. I mite be wrong, who knows. Anyway, thanks for reading, I really appreciate it.**

**Well, that's it for now. Hope everyone had a great Thanksgiving!**


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